


Jet Sikuliaq and the Inevitable Pursuit of Intrinsic Rewards

by gaytypo



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Asphyxiation, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, alright lets start with warnings, anyway this is about survival and a man who likes his car, but like not really, he's very ace in this dw, i need to stop writing coping fics, mentioned not lived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytypo/pseuds/gaytypo
Summary: Jet reflects on past addiction and where he finds himself after. He is recovering, like the rest of the Carte Blanche.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Jet Sikuliaq and the Inevitable Pursuit of Intrinsic Rewards

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i had to get this out of my system i read an article a while back that possessed me  
> this work specifically references heroin because it would suck more if i made up some stupid space drug,  
> please do be safe y'all and don't do drugs

Addiction can take many forms. I have studied the biological components that make addiction  _ turn _ . Every neurochemical reaction that induces such behavior has an evolutionary basis. It is therefore important that we as people look at the things we enjoy that can harm us and ask our hypothalamus  _ why _ . Then we might change it. As much as I would like it to be the case, it is not only drugs that can bring about such damaging and enticing chemical reactions. Every day I look to my family and see them engaging with their vices. Make no mistake in this phrase, which is not meant to mock or guilt-trip those that behave like humans do and have done for eons. By acknowledging their vices, I see a hope for my own to take a healthier form.

Rita is watching her streams. I've talked to her about the negative repercussions and health risks associated with binge watching. Not to shame her. Really, out of sheer curiosity. It would seem she has unknowingly escaped the consequences whilst still reaping the rewards. A feat I assume has only been achieved through generations of her blood engaging in this behavior, working up a sort of tolerance, perhaps. Typically, when serial binge watching, one would enjoy the continuous release of dopamine, sometimes reaching high levels comparable to the best moments of their lives, and then feel a surly depression when their binge ends. This reaction takes place through the same neuronal passage as the well-known addictions. So why, I continue to wonder, does Miss Rita never feel the lows when the great stressors of life return from their dopamine vacations. Additionally, how does her brain weather the streams day after day without feeling a lessened gratification? What makes a substance so addicting is diminishing returns.

Buddy Aurinko knows this well. It is the core of many of her old bartender policies. If you find yourself staring at a third cup with slightly less fluid than your first and second, and slightly too little to keep the buzz up, but not enough to be directly noticeable, you may just be sitting at an Aurinko bar. You of course do not ponder the grand scheme of addiction. You simply order another cup and  _ have a good time _ . Nobody can blame Buddy for taking advantage. It’s business. Nor does one bat an eye at her, as she would call it, consumption. It is only natural for a former barkeep with a thorough food allergy. But I have known her for long enough to know her relationship with pleasure. Criminals, we all know how it is to live on the edge of survival. Many of us find a thrill in it. Many of us test the line in the more mundane filler parts of our lives. The rest probably did not survive. Buddy has been in the game for a long time. Eventually one learns that certain substances will numb the fear and pain. Her relationship with her amygdala is a dance, really. I trust that she's learned the steps to her part as much as she does mine.

There is one addiction that I do not understand personally. Clinically, all of the ends line up. The typical body is programmed to recognize things about your behavior and reward you for furthering the survival of the human race. But regardless, I find no appeal in breeding, regardless of the dopamine that the nucleus accumbens promises. I only wish that the residents of the cabin next to mine felt the same way. The odd thrills that other people find in pursuit of the brain's rewards is frankly dismaying at times. Some people would seem a lot more tolerable if they were shamelessly addicted to  _ heroin  _ instead. But I try not to engage in shame. Our behaviors are being influenced by the releases of these chemicals after all. 

Take erotic asphyxiation for a relevant example. Supposedly, members of mankind have experienced arousal related to hypoxia (usually of the choking variety) for eons. We understand it biologically. When deprived of oxygen, brain cells begin to die very quickly. Thus triggers a glutamate cascade. The body reacts to try and prevent us from losing too many brain cells. This receptor, though, to humans supposedly would feel blissful. But this effect bounces off of so much more when you get beta-endorphins involved. They allow through a chemical reaction 80 times more numbing than morphine. At a certain point in suffocation, you just stop feeling pain. Thus, a sense of euphoria in moments of dire breath might trick the heinous brain into rewarding you for breeding behaviors you haven't actually engaged in.

Now, I still don't understand why people would choose this particular action to feel pleasure. The haze of addiction colors me with bias, I'll admit. But really, if you have to choose between two risky behaviors likely to go wrong and kill you, why are you choosing the one that lasts mere minutes or seconds when heroin can last for hours. It’s the dry humorist inside me, perhaps. But I've done my research. Many drugs available on the market are said to be much more intense than sexual behavior. It evokes the exact same chemical reactions. It  _ rewards  _ you. The drug hands you free and sustained dopamine with the added boost of shutting down your sense of fear and pain.

But then it wears off. And then you do more. And here you feel the diminishing returns. Heroin, worse than other vices, makes you feel the best, then takes it away. The next time you do heroin, it is slightly less intense. You do it more. The hypothalamus depends on you doing more. But your addiction has permanently altered its very composition. Withdrawal makes you feel stress and your brain knows how to stop it. Just use. When you feel the high less, you just take more. The tolerance builds, the rewards are lower, you do more. If you do it enough, the effects of pain and fear are worse. Withdrawal is the most intense fear, solely because you  _ know  _ you could be feeling absolutely none. And you can try to feel the normal rewards of life. But you've conditioned your body to want for more. 

You will sit through the best moments of your life knowing there is a better feeling out there, waiting for you to come home.

No more.

I've given my brain time to rest. I'm starting to feel joy again. For a while there, for a very long while, everything was numbed by abstinence. My body would still release dopamine, serotonin, whatever you want to study, but my standards for it were just too high. Addiction is physiological in intimate ways some might never know. I got used to the awful sweatiness, my damaged appetite regulation, the loss of sleep even. All aspects of my life tied to this little part of the brain I hurt. Sometimes it is easier to believe addiction is all about evil chemicals you put in your body. It is not. It is about how your body reacts to certain stimulations. And so Juno offers me a drink; I say no thank you and begin making tea. Rita invites me to her stream marathons; I occasionally find myself apologizing and retiring to bed halfway through a stream. Some mark takes interest in my demeanor and hulking stature; I would like nothing more than to be in my cabin reading a book. Which is not to say I've become boring. I am still a highly accomplished thief, after all. I've lived the life of someone that carved survival from gripping my fingers too tight to a steering wheel, edged out a place between bullet wounds for this aging flesh. I still live a life worthy of every stream they've made for my endeavors. I even seek thrills.

"Ruby, would you like to go for a drive?" I greet the car, a bounce to my step I haven't felt in years.

It sings back to me, a delightful tune that speaks contentment. When I am settled in the driver's seat, another whistle comes, inquisitive in nature.

"I would like to go for a drive. I do not know where. I only know I want to go very far. So far that I find myself completely lost."

_ Seat belt buckle. Confused whistle. An engine turning over. _

"Perhaps somewhere with hills? My only desire is to go there quite fast. Ruby, I would like to go the kind of speeds that make me feel fear again."

As a human being, it is important to know we are not trying to be flawless. There is not room for shame here. Not anymore. We may have vices, but so long that we understand them, they will not control us.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really bad at science so do let me know if I need to fix any errors <3


End file.
